Solstice: Silver Lake Mysteries, Book #4

By Sophia Watson

Literally, life has driven Jacob Wheeler to ground level. A year ago (See: Snow Angels: Book 2), Jake lost altitude off the cliffs of one of the Hebrides islands, possibly the Isle of Lewis. A ferocious wind storm knocked his personal helicopter into the very edge of a cliff. He teetered there until he managed to escape with his survival backpack and a bottle of Glenlivet whiskey. He was to need both.

There is a dark side to the bucolic, rural peace that is Silver Lake. That is the inner workings of this book. Again, we shall meet the brilliant Scotsman, computer programmer and former criminal hacker, Jacob Wheeler. Now a changed man. Travel with us again to the Outer Hebrides of Scotland to find out why the politico-hacker organization "Anonymous" helps him on the dangerous path he must follow. Hold your breath as two Cyber Vigilantes chase down the FBI and murderous code writers trying to kidnap Jake.

This is the sequel to our cyber crime novel "Snow Angels: Silver Lake Mysteries, Book 2" a deep look at computer hacking for profit versus computer hacking for protecting freedoms.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cozy Publishing
• Release date: Nov 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463485453

Sophia Watson

Cathy Smith (Sophia Watson) lives in northern Maine near the Canadian border writing cozy novels (on Nook and Kindle also as Zara Brooks-Watson), poetry (on Kindle as Cathy Smith), taking photographs (for the poetry) and editing her short stories from the Nineties (of which she has many). She lives in a farming (rural) area watching the wildlife -- recently foxes, weasels and cardinals -- and the ubiquitous coyote. She has a wonderful rescued Yorkshire terrier named Sparky, supports third world and other animal rescue organizations online and has owned quite a few amazing dogs and cats. She also writes under two pseudonyms -- Zara Brooks-Watson and Sophia Watson (cozy mysteries). She has four book websites -- silverlakemysteries.weebly.com -- jitterbug-watson.weebly.com -- zarabrookswatson.weebly.com and appleciderpoetry.weebly.com -- She authors the Silver Lake Cozy Mystery Series and the Bonaventura Cozy Mysteries -- samples of these books and links to all of her online downloads are available on the website link below. She is her own publisher as Cozy Pubishing. More books are available under all three names on Nook and Kindle and many other e-book distributors online. She attended Boston University (graduating magna cum laude) and Harvard.

Book preview

Other Books by This Author

The Bonaventura Cozy Mysteries as Zara Brooks-Watson

Jitterbug (The Fifties) Book 1

Tie Dye (The Sixties) Book 2

The Silver Lake Cozy Mysteries as Sophia Watson

It All Comes Out in The Wash (Book 1)

Snow Angels (Book 2)

That Summer in Silver Lake (Book3)

Solstice (Book 4)

Poetry, Short Stories and Children's Books as Cathy Smith

Waiting for the Sunrise – The Collected Poetry of Cathy Smith (both Journals)

Hidden Treasures: A Book of Short Stories

The Tree People (Children's Book, Ages 6-10)

Most E-books are also available in paperback. See silverlakecozies.wixsite.com/sophia-watson

Chapter One: Secrets

The heaviest snow in decades lay thickly upon the small hamlet of Silver Lake. No sound escaped the deep muffler of ice except the cracking of some overhanging icicles off the roof. An unusually large, beautiful silver and tan Husky romped on a cleared portion of driveway, obviously happy in its true ecological niche and having a great time skittering around on the still heavily packed ground, biting at the snow.

The same could not be said of any of the drivers in the town center. No one would even dare drive at night under these conditions. At least ten cars and pickups (including one large delivery van) did not listen to this advice, and were covered with snow and half-buried on the shoulders of various dirt roads. They had been there since the night before. A heavy fog rolled in and shrouded the town and its corn and soy fields with an almost spooky impenetrable cloak.

Life goes on – and folks took to walking as much as possible. Many of them used a ski pole and spiked shoe strips to help them navigate the icy byways. Tow trucks scouted the roads looking for the stranded cars left around town last night.

The Winter Solstice is celebrated traditionally all over our planet. Also called Yule and the December Solstice. It is the day that is the shortest of the year and the night is the longest. It has the least daylight hours. After this day, all the daylight hours slowly – very slowly – almost imperceptibly – get longer, until one day in summer when the day is the longest day of the year and has the most daylight hours. That exact day would be the Summer Solstice.

In Silver Lake, the longest night of the year this year (Winter Solstice) was also a time that had sucked the breath out of most of this small town’s inhabitants as they prepared for their own celebration and town bonfires. But before we go there and explain what has happened to this popular year-round tourist resort, we must first tell you about the changes in Asia Reynolds' life.

A solitary professional woman (documentary filmmaker), Asia Reynolds had a close association with a few professional women around town, all of whom she grew up with. These friends included Elise Jamison (formerly Snuggles, the honey lady) and Sergeant Sheila Rodriguez of the Silver Lake Police. Elise is a well-known late-night news commentator with her own show – The Mississippi River Journal. She was the first African-American woman to have her own show on cable in Silver Lake. Frankie Franklin is Asia's closest neighbor in her farming neighborhood. She is also African-American, elderly, and the owner of Franklin's Rib Shack, a multi-generational fast food restaurant. She also runs her own private farm animal and domestic animal rescue.

That brings us to Sylvie. Sylvia Reynolds is Asia's young high school age niece. Sylvie had recently decided to finish high school in Silver Lake, the town she despised as the boonies when she first arrived. Now, in love with Asia's animals – Zucchini (dog), Punkin (donkey), Thelma and Louis (goats & their offspring Tinkerbell & Smidgen) and her own St. Bernard puppy, Junior – she looked forward enthusiastically to continue working for Asia's elderly African American neighbor, Frankie Franklin on her animal rescue ranch. She was in love with love and would not forget her new beau, Bertram Thomas, who is a very successful new Air Force pilot and incredible painter. She writes and texts him every day. He does the same.

There is more to this bucolic rural picture than meets the eye. There is a suspenseful underside to the peace that pervades the natural surroundings of Silver Lake.

__________

Months in the future, the snows of winter melted. A man in a dark, floor-length raincoat walked into an unlit room. It was Jacob Wheeler. He was there on a tip from Anonymous (Anonymous is a politico-hacker organization that reveals the underside of destructive corporate and government dealings, like Wiki-Leaks. They represent The People as in the U.S. Constitution – i.e. Government by the people, of the people and for the people.)

Jacob sat down, still in the dark. There was no light. It felt good to him to be invisible. This man preferred to stay hidden. The why of which is in the inner workings of this book.

Light is important. But, so is darkness. Seeds also germinate in the dark. They grow at night. That is the importance of a Solstice – defining a growing season – the relationship between the Earth and its Sun. That, according to the scientific definition of Solstice, is a very, very slowly evolving relationship between the Sun and the Earth. A gradual strengthening of the power of the Sun on the Earth's surface. A slow warming of the soil and the soul.

Observe the rising sun on the longest day of the year. That is, of course, the Summer Solstice. Jacob Wheeler was waiting for that sunrise. Until then, he sat in total darkness, hidden, comfortable.

He had a full glass of water. He was not hungry, just thirsty. He used to drink Glenlivet Whiskey. Now, he preferred a clean, cool glass of water, no ice. His mind was as clear as the water. The Solstices were still celebrated in rural Europe. That was important to him. That was of value. The natural growing seasons were of great value and he never forgot that. Real values were something he sought avidly and wanted to obtain for his inner self, now that his lifestyle was changing.

This was going to be huge, but he still had to be careful. He was in London, a city he loved. But, his move was shaky. He was a new man, well-educated, brilliant, in fact. He was one of the best computer programmers on the planet. One of the most innovative hardware designers, as well. His talent and equipment were unparalleled and well hidden. They had never been for public consumption. He would remain, thus, forever young – forever a child, a new man – not a corporate competitor. He was an anomaly.

__________

A hand grabbed him from behind, shoved him into a closet and covered his face with a wet cloth. After looking at the two men disguised in black balaclavas, Jake breathed in the chloroform and began to pass out, what went through his mind was the bucolic daily life of Stornoway, Scotland and the mists of the Outer Hebrides, his beloved homeland. Everything was of value there. The violet, chartreuse and ultra-sky blues in the flowing, water-like gaseous movements of the northern lights colored his fading consciousness. The colors of the wildflowers in the Spring. That was what he truly desired. That was where he went now, if only in his unconscious mind. He fell limply to the floor as the sounds in the other room indicated a violent search. His last thought was that of relief that his cash was hidden under his waistband inside a money belt.

Whoever did this to him, came back and also duct taped his hands and ankles, stuffing him further into the closet and locking the door. As Jake came to hours later, he overheard the two men talking about him. They had discernable British accents, despite the voice-changing mikes that they were using. He figured they were programmers looking for some of his code. He guessed they hadn’t found anything yet. He was wanted in the United States for a murder he didn’t commit and a felony bank heist that he had planned and helped to pull off successfully. His worst enemies, though, were other hackers. Maybe even his old cyber crew. He couldn’t recognize these men, though.

Is he still in the closet? asked man number two, who had apparently gone out for a moment and just walked back in.

Jake had a rush of paranoia.

Of course, he is still there. We would have to torture him to get him to talk. That is a much more serious charge than theft. It is easier to look for a notebook or laptop. Haven’t found a thing so far.

We need to find his code.

I know. I guess you came up...

Empty so far. Nothing in the hall, said the second man as he continued searching inside the apartment.

What is this guy doing these days, anyway?

No one knows. Nobody has seen him for quite a while.

Yes, they have, but since his plastic surgery only a few of his former crew can recognize him.

They held his surgeon at gunpoint, and forced him to reveal his new photos, kept for passport and identification purposes, along with Jake’s alias.

That’s true. Good thing you knew one of that crew and you saw the photos. No one knows how many people can recognize his new face. Some of the people that want him are caught in a web that includes cops, the FBI, London Metropolitan police, and other security agencies. We want to be the first to break through. If other techies get him, he might go too far underground for us to find. He would be lost in cyber space.

Ah, ha! Jake thought. He knew it! Programmers!

Jake began to sweat. His hands shook.

There was a hesitation, then an exclamation from the man who was searching his place. "I found it! I found his programming notebook here, inside his sleeping bag, of all places!" The two men laughed. Jake could hear them turning pages. His heart sank. He thought, Why, oh, why had he ever kept a journal? How stupid was that?

One man continued to comment as his voice got more distant, as if he was moving towards the outside door.

You’d think he would be too smart for that. Writing down code!

He should have memorized and destroyed this by now. Leave him in that closet. It’s enough that we searched his backpack and the rest of the place. We can follow him if he goes anywhere. I’m not into a kidnapping charge. This is bad enough. All we need is that code.

Luciano, this place is pretty much empty, so maybe he has not even really moved in yet. We'll see him again at some point. Here, let me check... The same man quickly and audaciously opened the closet and exclaimed when he saw Jake who had kept his eyes closed. He’s still here. Out like a light. The two men laughed, searched him roughly and locked the closet door again. Then, they ran out of the apartment.

One of the men made a snuffling noise as he closed the apartment door behind him, saying, That chloroform is giving me a runny nose. I just want a chance at that money. I don’t want to get arrested myself. I friggin’ hate jail. I’m not doin’ no time for this. He doesn’t know us, anyway.

Jake let out a huge sigh of relief as the two thugs left. Old issues were coming back to haunt him. This could be more dangerous than it initially sounded. It could be terminal. It was obvious that these men were after his programming, his computer code. Every hacker in London would like to get their hands on that. He had some ideas as to who the two men might have been.

The code in his notebook was encrypted with his own system, so he doubted that anyone could translate it. His life was on the line now and he knew it. Next time, it might not be just chloroform. Those men would be after him again when they discovered that they could not read his code with any known system. He guessed they were probably Cannoniere, but there were too many members of that club for him to know all of them.

__________

Jacob's mind returned to the simple rituals of the Summer Solstice, a place of comfort for him. The Solstice was the next day. He didn't really know why he constantly thought of the Isle of Lewis's Callanish Standing Stones (or Clachan Chalanais in Scottish Gaelic). It was a traditional Solstice calendar make of Stonehenge-like stones erected in the Neolithic Age – between 4500 and 2000 BC – thousands of years ago. These huge stones have accurately marked the natural, local growing season since that ancient time preceding the Bronze Age. The growth of forests, wildlife and the correct time to plant. Many modern people do not know that indigenous people all over the world, regardless of culture, planted ancient gardens within forests.

Jake's grandfather Bernard Campbell-Wheeler, one of his few remaining relatives and a trusted friend, would burn Juniper to rid the house of evil spirits at dawn on the Solstice. Jake could smell the sweet scent of the branches right now in his memory. In his boyhood, it would awaken him with a smile on his face. Now it superseded the vile smell of the chloroform. Who had found him out? He didn't know. Like we said, every hacker in town was after his computer code. Maybe every prominent hacker in the world.

He longed for his grandfather's protective arms, grandpop’s dog Adair and his beautiful, gentle ponies Ainsley and Baird. His grand always appealed to his deeper poetic side, especially with a Fell pony named Baird – which means son of the bard (poet).

Jacob worked his hands loose from the duct tape that bound them, loosened his ankles and stood up shakily, wiping his sweating face. He put his ear to the closet door – there were no sounds, just the rushing wind from the window he had left open to let the warm summer air in. He broke the lock on the closet with his boot and walked out of it. He double locked his front door. He also put bullets in his pistol and stuck it in the back of his belt, under his shirt, within easy reach.

Basically, he had nothing in this place. True, he had thought of starting a new life here in working class London. London, a city that he had loved all his life. A city with wonderful memories for him. Well, it didn't look like that was going to be possible. Did it? No more sliding into a dream that did not fit.

He didn't know how they had found him. He was finished here, he knew. It was now much too dangerous to stay. He might not have what his intruders wanted, but that obviously made everything even more dangerous. They could just kill him out of spite and frustration.

He had unlimited funds at his disposal. His beloved and trusted grandfather was his banker and investor, covering his whereabouts and real identity so that he could use only cash. Keeping ahead of the game was what his survival depended on. Grand knew that. He was always on Jake’s side, watching his back.

There was a leak somewhere. He didn't think it was his grand or his girl, Jessica Parker – who now lived on grand's estate in Sutherland, and knew his real identity. He had sent Jessica to his grand to protect her. Neither of them would knowingly betray him. Ever. They were true as true could be.

He had been on the run for twelve months more or less. He had been living in a tent in the beautiful forests of the Outer Hebrides, too scared to do anything else. He learned to love it there and to love that lifestyle. But, the time had come to try and live in a more convenient way. Despite having plastic surgery on his face done overseas, it was looking like he might have to move back to the forest.

This plan to move to London would not work. There had been a leak, there was no doubt in his mind. His life depended on finding out where it was. He was thinking about that obsessively and furiously. He could use an internet café and try and track some information down with his code for fake IP addresses. He had not put that information in his notebook. Who knew who he was now? What he looked like? The thought made him shiver with apprehension. Obviously, someone knew.

His mind returned to the glass of water and the sprigs of Juniper which lay on his table. His